


stifled the choice and the air in my lungs

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt No Comfort, not canon compliant at all really this is just me Projecting again sorry, sorry fox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28139388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Fox is in the Chancellor's office and he can't remember how he got there.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37
Collections: Anonymous





	stifled the choice and the air in my lungs

**Author's Note:**

> this is 100% a vent fic and there's no plot whatsoever. i wrote this in 20 minutes. it is not coherent in the slightest. enjoy/i'm sorry
> 
> (title is from broken crown by mumford and sons, which doesn't fit this fic at all)

Fox is in the Chancellor's office and he can't remember how he got there. That in itself isn't too alarming. Blackouts aren't uncommon, especially among the Guard. It's the position he's in that's making him feel like his heart wants to crawl up through his throat.

He's on his knees, and he absurdly focuses on the fact that he can feel the rough fibres of the carpet even through his blacks. ( _ Where is his armour? It doesn't feel right.)  _ A hand is fisted in his hair like a claw and another is around his neck, keeping his head still. Keeping his head right where  _ he  _ wants it. 

His mouth is wrapped around -- ( _ don't think about, don't think at all)  _ \-- and he chokes as the hands keep him from pulling away to breathe. If Fox were to open his eyes, there would surely be dark spots in his vision. He keeps his eyes firmly shut. He doesn't want to see. 

The room feels like it's spinning around him as he continues to choke, and the rough grip relaxes but he doesn't pull away. He can't pull away. 

( _ Good soldiers follow orders. _ )

\---

He thrashes awake in the dark with a noise like an animal in pain. Before he's even fully aware, he's bent over the side of his bunk and retching. There's not much in his stomach, so it's mostly bile that splatters on the floor. It  _ burns  _ and he can't breathe right. 

There's a cautious hand on his shoulder and he almost throws a punch before he recognizes Thire's face in the gloom. Fox flinches away from the touch anyways.

The dream ( _ it was just a dream _ ) won't get out of his head. He can still feel the awful warmth spilling down his throat. He gags again at the memory. ( _ But it's not real, it's just a nightmare). _

His hands are shaking as he picks himself up off the bunk and walks to the 'fresher in a daze. He wants to stand under hot water and scrub his skin until it bleeds, and then maybe drink some floor cleaner after just to burn the taste - the  _ feeling  _ \- from his mouth.

He doesn't do any of those things. He strips his sweat-soaked blacks off, then stands in front of the mirror and stares.

Under his collar, there's a dark hand-shaped bruise wrapped around his throat.


End file.
